


Change is the Only Constant

by phaetonschariot



Series: Mutual Service [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:06:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phaetonschariot/pseuds/phaetonschariot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ianto's return, Jack is doing his best to settle him back in - and maybe a little more, if he's honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change is the Only Constant

**Author's Note:**

> This will make no sense at all without reading [Mutual Service](http://archiveofourown.org/works/385929) first.

It wasn't hard to figure out where Ianto would be. He'd barely left the Hub recently, having no flat to actually go home to anymore, though he'd always stayed far later than anyone else even before his death and subsequent resurrection. A week on and they were still trying to sort through the logistics of the whole thing, a bank account not being the least of the problems - as things stood, Jack had simply given him the balance of his accounts when they'd been closed down in cash. His possessions were easy enough to bring out of storage, at least, and Ianto had found a room near the large bathroom facilities that would do as living space for now.

This evening, though, he was at work in the Archives when Jack found him, cataloging items out of shipping crates. Things he'd brought down from London, Jack realised. He spotted the containment boxes that had triggered last week's lockdown on the floor nearby and realised that they must have come in the same way. 

Something squirmed uneasily in his stomach at the reminder. The subject had been dodged neatly so far, lost among more pressing matters, but perhaps it was time to bring it up again. "You never explained why you put the lockdown program in in the first place." He'd left the greatcoat upstairs, down to his rolled-up shirt sleeves, which he realises may have been a mistake if he intends to stay for long in the chillier air of the Archives. Instead of worrying about it, though, he just folds his arms across his chest, leaning back against sturdy shelving.

Ianto bites his lower lip in an extremely attractive fashion, not looking up from his work, and for a moment he doesn't reply. It's just as Jack is thinking of prompting him again that he says, "Know your enemy."

It's cryptic, and Jack raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"If-- if the Cybermen come back, we should know something about them." He looks up now, giving Jack opportunity to study his expression. He looks young, a little anxious. Nothing too out of the ordinary. "I brought some pieces down, dismantled, in separate sealed containers. The lockdown was for worst case scenario, but... I don't think there's enough there to actually build anything. It was just in case. I know how dangerous the technology is."

The last sentence comes across defensive, like he's expecting Jack to ream him out, and he has to admit that he'd felt some alarm at the explanation, the idea that there was cyber technology in the Hub, in _his home_. With this context though, the stubbornness of the lockdown makes sense, and seeing the closed-off expression on Ianto's face he draws in a calming breath, letting it out slowly before allowing himself to respond. "You should have told me."

"I know." He finishes the paperwork for something Jack recognises as a late forty fifth century brain puzzle, slipping the index card into place on the front of the item's box and putting it aside to be shelved. "But if we get into should haves we'll be here all day, sir."

His tone is mild, but Jack still winces a little at the perceived rebuke. Ianto seems to be settling in again well enough, but it will be a long while before he's past the guilt, he thinks. Though, that reminds him of what he'd been thinking to prompt the search for Ianto in the first place. "Actually, I came down here to say you should get out of the Hub for a while. Grab some dinner?"

"With you?"

"If you'll have me, yeah." He hadn't planned the double entendre in the sentence, but since it's there he flashes the Welshman a grin, eyes sparkling. The flirting's creeping back slowly but surely, and he's glad not to have received any obvious 'back off' signals. 

As he'd hoped, it makes Ianto smile a little. "You're a force of nature, sir. I'm not sure there's a person alive who could take you. Dinner, though, sounds perfect."

"Great! I'll get my coat." Jack practically bounds out of the Archives, Ianto following at a rather more sedate pace. To his surprise Tosh is still working when he comes out into the main Hub, and he gives her a cheerful nod as he passes. "I'm taking Ianto out to remind him what the outside world looks like. Lock up when you're done, yeah?"

"I'll only be another half hour, I think," she promises, voice floating up to the open door of Jack's office. "Have fun."

It's hard to resist the lecherous smirk that comes naturally in reaction to her words, so he just sticks his head back out the door to leer at her. "One can hope."

*

The night air is cold enough to remind Ianto that he'd missed most of summer, _including_ his birthday. He's twenty three now. It's a strange thought, but he's gotten used to strange since moving back to Wales - one might think that his work at Torchwood One would have prepared him equally well, but the organisation had been eight hundred strong, with most of the staff only having the vaguest of ideas what Torchwood actually _did_. Ianto knew perhaps more than most, working with alien technology in Research and Development, but the strange and unexpected was still typically well filtered out by the time anything got to him.

Not so in Cardiff, where one only had to look as far as Jack Harkness, the walking anachronism who couldn't die, to find something strange or unexpected. Though he supposes he falls into that category himself, now. It aches still at times, the realisation that everyone he knew is dead, but that he was brought back, and even as recently as the previous night he'd lain awake in bed wondering what was so special about him.

He has deliberately not thought about the ramifications of not being able to die himself, of his life being directly linked to an inanimate object. It's just too much to take in, still.

The restaurant Jack is taking them to is just across the Plass from the Hub, and seemingly casual enough that reservations aren't necessary. He remembers passing it once or twice and thinking it would be a nice place to take Lisa when she was better, and squashes that memory back into the back of his mind, forcing himself to focus on the present. On Jack, sitting across from him and studying the menu. 

"See anything you like?" the American asks when he notices the attention, a teasing note to his voice that makes Ianto flush a little in embarrassment at being caught.

He turns to his own menu, picking out the meat pizza without really thinking too much about the options. It's simple. Simple he can deal with. "Not much that I'm sure won't be awful for me," he retorts. It's easier to do when he doesn't have to meet Jack's intense gaze. 

Jack laughs, the sound low and warm. "You'll have to remind me to give you some weapons training."

The non sequitur makes Ianto look back up in surprise. "You aren't going to want me in the field, though."

"Probably not," Jack admits. "We have to prepare for the unexpected though. You should know how to defend yourself - for your sake, too. Getting shot isn't pleasant even if you can get back up again afterwards, and you do take a while to heal."

He nods, unable to argue with the logic. Truthfully he's a little glad he won't be expected to go out into the field. He'd liked his nice, safe desk job in London, and as different as Cardiff is, it's still something comfortable and familiar. "You know it's positively surreal to be talking about this here, sir." Two tables away a young couple sits trying to feed macaroni to a toddler; he can hear the husband telling his wife about a new account he'd gotten at work. 

"Aw, live a little. If people can ignore Weevils in the streets and alien space ships crashing into Big Ben, they can ignore anything." That blinding grin again, though Ianto doesn't have to weather it long as a waitress swings by to take their order. Jack, predictably, flirts horribly with her, leaving Ianto amused and slightly wondering at his casual easiness. He's never quite understood people capable of that. "Now then," he says when the waitress is gone, turning his attention back to Ianto; "are you going to update me on what lost treasures you've found hidden in the Archives?"

*

"This is not what I expected when you said 'weapons training.'"

Warm air puffs against the back of Ianto's neck as Jack laughs, body a solid pressure behind him, manipulating limbs and torso into the positions he wants. "Showing's easier than telling," he murmurs into Ianto's ear.

Ianto tells himself it's only the contrast between body heat and cold air that makes him want to shiver. Jack stretches their arms out toward the target, lining the gun up for him. He flicks his thumb against Ianto's and the safety clicks off, his other hand a heavy weight on Ianto's hip. "Like this."

Completely un-distracted by the rampant invasion of his personal space, Ianto squeezes the trigger, the report of the gun making him flinch a little each time it goes off. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ When he looks at the target he frowns; one of the shots had missed entirely, the other two hitting the shoulder and neck.

Behind him, Jack makes a thoughtful sound, bringing their joined hands back down to Ianto's side and letting go. "Don't think," he instructs, voice soft after the sharp noise of the gunfire. "Just one smooth motion... swing your arm up until it feels _right_. Don't rush it. Don't over-think it. Just _feel_."

Then, mercifully, he steps backward, and Ianto squares his shoulders against the sudden emptiness around him. It's as though Jack fills the very air, changing its basic composition so that it's simply _different_ when he's not there.

Don't think, he tells himself, and swings his arm up.

_Bang! Bang!_

Jack whoops when both shots puncture the target's head, unrestrained and echoing through the large space of the firing range. "Not bad, Ianto."

"Well it is easier when you're not trying to plaster yourself to my back, sir," he comments, and Jack responds with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Oh?" he asks, taking a couple of steps back towards Ianto. "Distracting you, was I?"

No appropriate response springs to mind, possibly a complication due to the strange way the air hums between them and the pure devious delight on Jack's face, so Ianto simply seizes on the first thing that passes. "I'd better get the coffee on." He just barely manages to set the gun down on the table as he backs off, too quickly to be at all smooth, and hopes it's his imagination that Jack's grin only gets wider. "You know how they get without caffeine."

He gets out the door and a few metres down the passage before Jack calls after him, "We'll finish this later, Ianto!"

*

In all honesty, Jack knows it's a bad idea. From Ianto's point of view it's only been a month since Canary Wharf and the status of "Girlfriend: Lisa Hallett" ticking over to "deceased". Not to mention the fact that he's the boss (which doesn't bother him, but which is more important in this timeline) and Ianto's surviving off his life energy, which is a complication that he can't separate from whatever else is going on and discount.

He's selfish, so selfish, but he's also lonely, and Ianto is fascinating and attractive and even though he wouldn't wish this, the endless dying and not dying, on anyone... he still wants to keep Ianto nearby.

Through the glass walls of his office he gazes down to the main Hub, seeking the object of his thoughts out. From where he stands he can see Tosh at her desk and Gwen crossing the floor behind the water tower; he assumes Owen is down in the medical bay, out of sight. Ianto, though, is absent, and he has to turn back to the computer on his desk, flicking through CCTV cameras until he locates him manning the Tourist Office upstairs. Assured that no one who might wonder why a twenty two year old in a rundown place like that has a top-of-the-line communications system is present, he taps his earpiece to connect him to Ianto. "See me in my office later?"

Ianto glances up into the camera and for a moment it's as though Jack's meeting his eyes through the screen of his monitor. "Yes, sir. --Is this work related?" He sounds hesitant, and Jack wonders if he's thinking about their conversation in the gun range that morning.

He shakes his head before remembering that Ianto can't see him. "Social. But not that social," he adds before the Welshman can say anything. "It can wait til the others leave."

It would have been just what he deserved if Murphy had heard that and decided to throw a mess at them, but it ends up being a pretty average day. He shoos Tosh out at a quarter to six, and not long afterwards Ianto is stepping in with a cup of coffee in each hand, expression going decidedly neutral when he sees the transparent safety box sitting on Jack's desk. 

"You're a godsend," Jack declares, accepting one of the mugs and taking an appreciative drink. "So, how've ya been?"

"Fine," Ianto says, tone of voice faintly bemused, as he settles into the chair on the guest-side of Jack's desk. 

Wanting this to be a purely social visit, Jack swings his out on its rollers, dropping into it and hooking his ankle round the bottom of the desk to halt its momentum. "No, really, Ianto. How are you?"

"Ah." Ianto uses his coffee as a shield to give himself a moment to put his answer together, but that's okay. They have time, plenty of it. "Better."

"You sound surprised."

"Well, Owen's still a twat, but Gwen seems nice, and I like Tosh."

It's not exactly an answer, but Jack accepts it with a chuckle. Owen _is_ a twat sometimes, and that's just part of his charm. It's certainly entertaining. "But it feels like you're moving on too soon?" he probes, and if it's a guess, at least it's an educated one.

The flash of surprise on Ianto's face tells him he's hit the mark. "A little bit."

"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face. I know a thing or two about people. And one thing I've learned is that we're pretty resilient when we have to be. Sounds to me like your brain knows you can't dwell on the past." He taps a finger against Ianto's forehead knowingly. "You're going to have your weak moments, but you're a strong person. I don't think I've seen you do anything half-heartedly yet."

Though as much as he knows about people, he's not quite sure he can read the emotion in Ianto's eyes that moment. It's only after a short silence that it clears up a little, and he's fairly sure he can identify gratitude, or something like it. It's enough for him; not waiting for an answer, he hefts the safety box and holds it out for Ianto to take. "It's probably appropriate for you to have this."

"I'm surprised you know what appropriate means, sir," the Welshman retorts, but there's little feeling in it as he stares at the glove through the heavy-duty plastic. "Do you think it's safe?"

That's the question that's been plaguing him all day, but Jack's pretty sure this is the right thing to do. He's already forced Ianto back into life. Holding onto the thing that keeps him here is a little too much even for his somewhat ego-centric nature. "I have a feeling. I want you to give life a chance, not feel like you're a prisoner to it. Just... if you change your mind, whether it's next week or in ten years, I want you to talk to me first."

He doesn't say that he'd understand if he did. He also doesn't promise that he'll let him go through with it. But he does grin back when Ianto gives him what looks to be a genuine smile, ignoring the twist in his gut that wonders if he was aiming for that blooming of trust for all the wrong reasons.


End file.
